Prickly By Nature (29 page)

At some point, Avery’s phone had died. Then he was home and Dylan was yelling at Reid. God, what a mess. Avery had chosen to step in to help Mason instead of calling the police first. The blame lay squarely on his shoulders. Reid hadn’t played a role in his decision. He’d been at the hospital, where he needed to be. It wasn’t fair for Dylan to fault him. Reid was allowed to have a life outside of protecting Avery, no matter what Dylan thought.

After a third day off, which Reid insisted on, Avery returned to the office. He still had some aches and pains, but all the swelling had gone down and his bruises looked a week or two old. Another few days and they would fade completely. Maybe then, once he looked more like himself than a punching bag, he and Dylan could have a conversation without Dylan flipping his lid again.

“How’re you doing?” Reid asked as Avery settled at his desk.

“I’m okay. Ribs are a little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Reid’s eyes went distant. “I wish I’d been there.”

Avery sighed. Not Reid too. “Stop it. Your friend needed you. We can’t be at each other’s sides twenty-four-seven. That’s not possible, and you and I both know it.”

Reid frowned, though he nodded slowly. “Your mate is angry with me.”

“He’s pretty pissed off at me now too. Don’t worry about Dylan. I’ll talk to him.”

“He’s right to blame me. I promised him I’d keep you safe.”

Avery brushed his bangs off his forehead and huffed out a frustrated breath. “Please. Who am I, Princess Aurora? I don’t need to be rescued. And I really can’t handle listening to any more guilt or self-recrimination right now. Dylan’s been spouting that ‘I should’ve protected you’ line since I got abducted after the auction. I’m surprised he hasn’t started locking himself in the closet and whipping himself as penance. But just like back then, I made the choice that put me in danger. Me.” Avery thumped himself on the chest. “I’m the one who takes responsibility for it.”

A long beat of silence. Reid nodded again. He was normally so hard to read, but right then, Avery saw respect in his dark eyes. Maybe even admiration. Avery wanted to preen. He forced himself to keep his cool and turn to his computer. “So, background checks today?”

“Yes. I sent you an e-mail with a list of names.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

Reid disappeared into his office.

AVERY WAS
halfway through the list when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, expecting to see a text from Dylan, but there was a message from Sven instead.

IMPORTANT. Need to talk 2 u ASAP.

Worried, Avery tapped on Sven’s contact to call him. Sven answered at the end of the first ring.

“Can you meet me?” he asked without preamble, sounding breathless and agitated. “I need to talk to you. In person.”

Avery couldn’t help his flicker of paranoia. The last time Sven had contacted him about a supposed emergency, he’d been snatched by werewolves and taken to Forest Park to be hunted. “Um…. Well, I’m at work right now.”

“Please,” Sven said. “I’m begging you. It’s about Warren. I… I—” He broke off, and Avery heard the faint sound of sniffling.

Alarmed, Avery straightened in his seat. “Sven? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“What?” Sven asked, voice muffled. “Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s just… I can’t do this over the phone. Please.”

Avery pushed his caution aside. Sven wasn’t a good enough actor to fake the anguish in his tone. Something was seriously wrong. “Hang on a second.” Avery covered the mic on his phone and glanced over his shoulder toward the doorway of Reid’s office. “Hey, Reid. Do you mind if I go out for a while? A friend of mine has an emergency.”

“Go ahead.”

Avery put the phone back to his ear. “Okay. Where do you want to meet?”

“Can you meet me at Tanner Springs Park? I just finished up with a client here. I can just wait for you.”

The location surprised Avery, but he agreed without any hesitation. The park was in the Pearl—he used to walk to it from his loft sometimes—and highly public. Not ideal for a setup. Unconsciously he felt his shoulders relax. “Yeah. I’ll be there in about half an hour.” Traffic willing. Sometimes it took forever to get downtown from Reid’s office in North Portland.

Between driving, finding parking, and making the trek to the park, it was more like forty-five minutes before Avery made it to Sven.

Sven was seated on the grassy amphitheater steps, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. He was the only person there not lying out and soaking up the sun. It was a rare clear day, warm enough that Avery had broken out his denim bermudas and paired them with slip-on canvas shoes and a short-sleeved button-up. He sat down next to Sven, pulled off his sunglasses, and tucked them into his shirt pocket.

“What’s going on?” Avery asked while searching Sven for some type of physical injury. Aside from the acrid scent of fear and anxiety that leaked from his pores, he looked unharmed.

Sven rubbed his hands on his yoga pants, not quite meeting Avery’s eyes. “Let’s walk.”

Avery nodded and got up, gesturing for Sven to lead the way. For almost ten minutes, they circled the park. Avery’s curiosity grew as Sven’s apprehension skyrocketed. To Avery’s nose he reeked by the time they settled on the steps again.

“I think Warren is cheating on me,” Sven blurted out. He looked at Avery, abashed. “I mean, I know he is.”

Avery cringed. Did Sven know about Warren’s proposition to him at the pub the other week? Yikes. This was awkward. He’d refused Warren’s invitation, but still. It had to suck for a guy to find out his boyfriend was trying to mack on his friends. Avery opened his mouth to apologize. Sven cut him off.

“I… I’ve suspected for a while. Warren might not think so, but I have a great sense of smell. All reindeer do. There’ve been a few times I scented others on him. Then yesterday he cancelled our plans for the second time this week.” Sven wiped his hands on his pants again, and the odor of sweat intensified. “I went to his place, and I followed him. He drove up to a cabin on Mount Hood. I kept going until I found somewhere to hide my car. Then I shifted and got closer to the house. The place is really secluded, no neighbors nearby. It was dark already, but I could see clearly through the windows.”

When he didn’t continue, Avery reached over and placed a hand on his knee. “And what did you see?”

“There was a girl.” Sven swallowed hard. “She was collared and shackled. She looked scared, and he was talking to her, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I only stayed until he pushed her onto her knees.” He looked down at his hands, which were once again clenched in his lap. “I couldn’t watch any more after that. I ran back to the car and drove home.” He met Avery’s gaze, his eyes wide and watery. “I thought about calling the police, but I wasn’t sure if it was some kind of game. What if he’d called and had her meet him there? What if it was just role-playing? I didn’t want to risk getting him in trouble, you know? I love him.” Sven’s voice cracked on the last word.

Avery gave Sven what he hoped came across as an encouraging nod. His stomach had gone sour, though. What Sven had witnessed could easily be some kind of kinky game. It could also be something more sinister. No doubt Sven’s mind had been clouded by hurt and confusion at the time. Maybe Warren was into BDSM. He struck Avery as the type. But now he comprehended why Sven had called him to the park.

“I want you to look into it,” Sven said, confirming Avery’s suspicion. “I’ll pay you like any other client. I just need to know what’s going on. I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me if he was into that sort of thing. I’d be willing to try, if he wanted.”

Seeing Sven’s distraught expression, Avery wrapped an arm around him. He and Sven seldom touched outside of the yoga sessions when Sven corrected his posture, but at that moment, he could tell his friend needed the contact.

“Will you do it?” Sven asked tearfully.

Avery squeezed him a little. Poor Sven. Obviously Warren didn’t—and probably never had—viewed their relationship as exclusive. Too bad he hadn’t made Sven aware of that fact. “Sure. I’ll look into it for you.”

Likely what Sven had witnessed was Warren being his unfaithful self with some chick who got off on being ordered around by a big, burly bear of a man. But it might be more. Couldn’t hurt to find out. And maybe when Sven had his answers, he’d finally break things off with Warren for good.

DYLAN’S KNUCKLES
scraped the ground, relieving his epidermis of at least the first two layers.

“Motherfucking fuck!” He hated this goddamned day—this entire piss-poor excuse for a week. “
Fuck
!”

Standing, he cradled his hand to his chest and made his way to the sink. All he wanted was one night away from the house that did nothing but remind him of Avery’s absence. Holding his hand under the flow of water, Dylan wondered why the hell he hadn’t just gone to Wolfhound and gotten drunk. It seemed like the most logical of choices compared to hanging out at his shop in the middle of the night. Yet here he was. Then again, Wolfhound held the ghost of Avery’s presence too.

Knocking at the customer door echoed around the empty shop. Dylan jumped. Christ, he’d been so deep in his own head, he hadn’t even turned on the radio.

“We’re closed,” he yelled without turning around. He didn’t care who or what was outside.

Another knock, louder and more insistent, sounded again.

Whipping around, Dylan found Detective Heath Ribeiro outside the door’s window with a giant shit-eating grin plastered on his face and a twelve-pack displayed in his hands. It was the beer that kept him from being yelled at again. Dylan needed a drink.

After wrapping his hand in a clean towel, Dylan went to open the door. “What the hell do you want?”

“Is that how you greet all your friends?”

Dylan quirked a brow at him. “Friends?”

A haunted look passed through Heath’s eyes but before it could be addressed, he shrugged and winked. “I come bearing gifts.” He held up the beer.

“Whatever, man. As long as it’s alcohol, I couldn’t care less.”

He led the way to his office and fell into his chair, facing Heath, who took up residence on the sofa by the window. Dylan suddenly had a flash of the first time Avery sat on that couch. He squeezed his eyes shut against the memory. Avery was everywhere.

“I could really use one of those right about now,” he rasped. And as if by magic, a cool, wet bottle was placed in his hand. Dylan opened his eyes to see Heath walking back to his perch. Not magic. Whatever. Dylan twisted off the cap and took a long cold drink. “What are you doing here?” he asked finally.

Grinning around the mouth of his own bottle, Heath swallowed and shrugged. “Thought I’d come check in with you.”

“At work?” Dylan squinted. “In the middle of the night? You’re a shitty liar, Detective. Wanna give me the truth this time?”

Heath’s smile spread across his face. “And you’re a dick when you’re not getting any.”

A growl rolled from his chest and his glare deepened. “What do you know about what I’m getting?”

“Talked to Avery.”

“What do you mean you talked to my mate?” It crawled all over Dylan. He’d stared at his phone for the past three days willing the damn thing to ring, and nothing. No calls, no voice mails, no e-mails, and no texts. Avery’s silent treatment pissed him off, but not as much as Dylan’s inability to call his mate on his own. Apologies needed to be made, and Dylan knew he should start, but bringing himself to do so was easier said than done.

“I called him the other day. We picked Travis up. Thought Avery should know since he was the one who handed in the tip.” Heath took another pull from his bottle.

Dylan’s chest ached. He had to mentally restrain himself from getting up and beating the shit out of the detective. That action wouldn’t earn him any favors. It wasn’t Heath’s fault Avery was obviously talking to everyone but him.

Heath’s grin fell, his expression unimpressed. “Quit growling.”

Dylan hadn’t realized he was doing so. He coughed, then lifted the bottle to his lips.

“If it makes you feel any better, Avery’s doing just as shitty.” It didn’t. Heath went on anyway. “He just hides it better.”

It made Dylan’s stomach knot thinking about Avery wallowing or angry or upset. He thought he was giving Avery space he needed to calm down.

“Come on.” Heath smiled. “Let’s talk about something else—get your mind off it.”

It was Dylan’s turn to shrug. He didn’t have much to throw out there, not with his mind stuck on his mate.

“Sure, I’d be happy to go first,” Heath told him and gave Dylan an exaggerated nod before prattling on about the trafficking case. Mostly he gave details Dylan already knew—redheaded party girls, not a lot of family ties. Then he said, “The one thing that’s set us back the most is figuring out where these guys are operating. For the longest time we’ve believed they were based in Seattle or Los Angeles. Hell, I would have even believed New York. But then we brought Travis in. Turns out the guy doesn’t know a ton, but what he does know centers most activity here in Portland. These assholes are hiding in plain sight right under our fucking noses.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s likely that whoever is behind the trafficking ring is well-known. The profiles given to us say he’s probably arrogant and wealthy—likely either family money or he owns his own business. They also say he has a thing for control. He may have a significant other, but it’s likely that person or persons have no idea of Mr. Bad’s… extracurricular activities. He’s loud, charming, and probably good-looking by today’s standards.

“The FBI profiler gave us a laundry list to look for, but they’ve pretty much been useless without knowing where to look.” Heath shook his head, a scowl etched against his features. “It just makes sense. The parties Avery told me about happened in our backyard. This city has always been a possibility, but now it’s number one on my list. I think we’re finally getting somewhere.”

“Good luck. Break a leg. Whatever they say.” It was something to celebrate, and Dylan wanted to do so with Avery. He frowned down at his bottle. He missed his mate.